


All's Fair

by afrakaday



Category: Battlestar Galactica, Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M, Pillow & Blanket Forts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 22:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afrakaday/pseuds/afrakaday





	All's Fair

It had been a long time since he’d been involved in a pillow fight. Probably since his boys were in primary school and Carolanne would banish the three of them to the playroom on Sunday mornings while she nursed a hangover.

Yet here he was, engaged in a baffled battle royale with the President of the Colonies. In his quarters. Well, in his rack, specifically.

She looked good in borrowed tanks and a pair of silky sleep shorts. That this battle had ensued at all was her fault, really; her ass looked so firm and round through the thin, clingy material of the shorts that he'd been unable to resist smacking it with her pillow as she came out from the head.

Laura Roslin wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. She reached over him to grab the pillow out from behind his head, letting the soft swells of her chest hover tantalizingly over his face briefly before his head fell back onto the hard mattress of the rack.

He started to sit up, and she bashed him in the face with his own pillow. “Someone’s playful tonight, hmm?”

He laughed. “You were asking for it, bring out the big guns by wearing that in front of me. I’ve gotta fight back.” He took a swing at her shoulder.

“I was asking for something, I guess,” she conceded, bopping him in quick succession along his chest and stomach. “But I don’t know that this was what I had in mind.”

She hadn’t been in a pillow fight for years. Not since that summer she came home from college and her little sisters ambushed her as she unpacked her things in her childhood room. An unfair fight, as Cheryl and Sandra both took up common cause against their returned sibling, but a cherished memory of happier times, back when her family was whole and the Colonies were habitable and she had her whole life in front of her.

Laura honestly hadn’t meant her sleepwear to function as a come-on. She was tired; relocating her office and living quarters to the far side of Colonial One, on top of her myriad other Presidential duties, was proving exhausting. When she’d taken Bill up on his offer of a comfortable place to lay her head while temporary quarters were being set up on her ship, she’d imagined and maybe even hoped that they would share his rack. The past two nights had seen that hope fulfilled, but so far their in-rack activities had in fact been limited to sleeping.

But his normally tranquil quarters were anything but restful now. She felt her own energy level rise to match Bill’s as adrenaline coursed throughout her body in response to his feathery assault.

The man had moves, she had to admit as he pinned her against the bulkhead and started tickling her sides. Must be all the boxing, her mind registered hazily before every cell of her being became focused on getting the tickling to stop. “Oh gods,” she gasped. “That is _unfair_!” She squirmed out of his grip and caught him with a pretty good whack to the side of the head as he turned to follow her retreat down the rack.

Undeterred, Bill kept advancing. “You can run but you can’t hide, Roslin.” He grasped her by the ankle and slid her lower body back toward him, laying her out across the rack. She threw her pillow at him in a futile last-ditch effort to fend him off.

He lowered himself on top of her, their bodies flush. She gasped out under his weight against her chest and snaked her hands up above her head. They were both panting, their hearts racing from the struggle and subsequent chase. Laura had nowhere to go. “I surrender, Admiral.”

He crushed his mouth to hers, bracing his weight on his elbows and using his arms to keep hers pinned to the rack. She didn’t resist, but ground her center against his thigh, rocking her hips back and forth against him.

Nipping at his lip and then breaking away from his mouth to breathe, trailing her tongue down his neck to place love bites along his shoulder, she grasped his hips in search of more contact. “I didn’t really mean to seduce you, you know. My flannel nightgown's in the laundry."

“Oh, Laura.” He pushed her hair out of her eyes so he could fix his on hers. “Don’t you know that I want you all the time, no matter what you're wearing?”

She just smiled as his hands roamed over the ribbed tanks, fingers tracing her nipples into raised peaks beneath the layers of material. The frisson of desire his movements elicited caused her to arch up from the rack. Taking advantage of the position, she brought her now-unrestrained hands down to her hips and slid her shorts off, carefully kicking them to the floor.

Her fingers made their way down the front of his shorts and she stroked his erection with firm alternating grasps, from base to tip and down again. He’d pushed up her tanks, and her efforts were rewarded with a low groan against her bare breasts. She giggled; between the short stubble of his face and the deep rumble in his throat, the physical sensations she was experiencing across her chest threatened to overwhelm her. That line was crossed when he drew a nipple into his mouth and sucked hard.

Coming back to herself, she gave his length a few more strokes, then pushed his shorts down and brought him into the cradle of her thighs. She rocked against him, letting his cock slide along her labia but not entering her just yet.

“Gods, Laura. You’re so wet.”

“Mm-hmm,” she agreed amiably. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Bill Adama wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, either. He hooked a leg around hers and flipped them so that he was on his back and she was astride him.

“You mind grabbing that pillow from behind you?” he asked with a smirk. “I’d like to watch you.”

She slipped herself down onto his cock before langorously reaching back toward the bulkhead and snagging the pillow with her fingertips. "Here you go."

He tucked the pillow comfortably behind his head and moved his hands to her waist. His expectant look made her laugh, and the rippling sensations that caused against his cock, deep inside her, nearly made him lose control right then. He took a deep breath and tried to think about laundry reports. Frak; that was what'd gotten them here in the first place. He went for the tried and true distraction of mentally going through the Viper takeoff checklist instead.

She leaned forward, her hands braced against the shelf behind his head, and began a lazy rhythm, rolling her hips and urging him to thrust in counter to her movements. "Oh, yes," she moaned. "Like that, Bill."

Her new posture was too tempting, and he captured one swollen nipple between his teeth and gave it a gentle bite before switching to the other side. Her thrusts quickened, and he abandoned her breasts involuntarily in favor of grabbing her hips for leverage, seeking to get somehow deeper. His mind protested that it would all be over too quickly. "Slow down, Laura," he gritted out, even as he surged into her.

She grinned wickedly. " _Surrender_ ," she taunted with a merciless snap of her hips.

He reached down to where their bodies were joined and stroked her clit insistently with his thumb. "No."

“That’s nice, but I’m not that easily distracted,” she said, a blatant lie that back fired when he lightened his touch and made slow circles around the tight bundle of nerves.

She clenched around him, hoping the increased friction would be his undoing. “What about now, Admiral?” His eyes shut hard. ”Ready to wave the white flag?”

“Never,” he said and then rubbed her harder in short small strokes.

"Oh, yes you will, Bill. Ohhh." She let her head fall back and her eyes close as she moaned, but kept moving in a steady rhythm against him. "Yes, right there."

He pushed down harder against her clit with one hand and caressed a breast with the other. Her breath was reduced to quick, shallow pants. "Yes, yes!" She clenched around him and was gone, her whole body shuddering in ecstasy.

The intensely erotic sight triggered Bill's own end: a few deep thrusts more, and he exploded within her with a deep, grateful moan.

Laura collapsed on top on him, letting her head rest on his chest so she could listen to and feel the beating of his heart. He wrapped his arms around her, smoothing down her mussed hair and sighing contentedly.

“Know what I like best about pillow fighting with you?" he whispered.

She murmured against his skin, hot under her breath. “What’s that?”

"That it'll always end in a draw.”


End file.
